


deeds outgrown

by sapphicleksa



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gen, Team Talon (Overwatch), with a lil angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 12:08:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicleksa/pseuds/sapphicleksa
Summary: Vialli orders Widow to kill Reaper during a mission, and she decides she'll pass. Reaper and Sombra, naturally, take that as an opportunity to be assholes.





	deeds outgrown

Widowmaker never missed a shot. Technically she didn’t miss this time either, she just waited a fraction of a second too long and her bullet went through a blur of smoke instead of a skull.

“His fading is unpredictable,” she told Vialli with a shrug.

He was furious. “That’s no excuse. Tracer’s movement is hardly predictable. Now he’s onto us.”

“He’s not.” She didn’t comment on his incorrect usage of “us.” She and Vialli were  _ not _ an us.

“And if he is?” he snarled. “You’ve jeopardized everything, because of what, some emotional attachment to Reyes? That’s the kind of weakness you should be sent to reconditioning for.”

Widowmaker rose, bored, completely unimpressed with his threat. Reconditioning normally gave her pause, but not this time. “And what will you send me for? I completed every directive for the mission. Every  _ official _ directive.”

When he narrowed his eyes at her, she gave him an unfriendly smile, blew him a kiss, and left.

“Vialli wants you dead,” she told Reyes over coffee the next morning.

He grunted and kept reading the news. Sombra’s eyes didn’t even flicker up with interest from her holoscreen.

She sighed. “He ordered me to kill you during our last mission.”

“I don’t feel dead.”

“You’re not.”

“I thought you didn’t miss?”

“I don’t.”

He finally looked up from his paper. “Then why am I alive?”

“Because the bullet hit you while you were fading.”

“Because you pulled the trigger too late.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m not saying you’re a bad shot. I know you’re perfect.”

Sombra’s eyes met Widow’s, gaze as sharp as her smile. “Which means Widow missed on purpose. I guess she does like you, Gabey.”

“Not particularly,” she said with a sip of coffee. She’d expected a comment along those lines.

“Thanks, Lacroix,” Reyes said, almost pouting, though with a face like his it could be hard to tell.

“Would you shoot  _ me _ ?” Sombra cupped her chin in her hands and leaned forward on the table.

“Yes,” Widow said without hesitation.

Sombra laughed. “ _ Araña _ , you’re so full of shit.”

“I am not. I’d do it if I felt like it.”

“If you felt like it?” Reyes quipped, eyeing her over his mug.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “If it was the better choice for me. You know what I meant.”

“Hm…”

Sombra giggled at that.

They didn’t believe her, and she didn’t entirely blame them. She had quite a bit of… affection wasn’t the right word, but she cared about them a little more than she ought to, given that she wasn’t supposed to care at all. That could of course be rationalized away into neat little emotionless explanations. It was better – for her, the team, Talon as a whole – if she cared just a little bit about the people she worked with. And that was all it was, a slight warmth, enough to keep her invested but not to make her weak. At least that was what she told herself.

She didn’t care, though. Widow rolled her eyes and took a drink, universal sign that she was finished discussing that topic. It happened more often than one might suspect; one of Reyes and Sombra’s favorite meal-time topics was apparently messing with her about her conditioning not being 100% effective. She was used to it (though if she was so used to it, why did she still spend so much time rationalizing and thinking about it?)

Sombra wasn’t one to let something juicy go, so she turned the conversation away from Widow herself and back to what Widow had told them initially. “So Gabe, how are we going to get back at Vialli?”

“ _ We _ aren’t doing anything.”

“Okay then, how are  _ you _ going to get back at Vialli?”

“I’m not,” he snorted. “Not yet, anyways. I’ll let him sweat; if he tried to use you, Lacroix, he’s desperate.”

Widow raised an eyebrow. “Does that make you desperate?”

Reyes waved a hand at her. “I haven’t told you to pull that kind of shit.”

“Really, Reyes?” Widow scoffed. “I’ve killed members of Talon for you, a fellow member of Talon. Literally last week.”

“No one high-ranking,” he said dismissively. “You’re a risky person for that.”

“Is that meant to be insulting?”

“No, it’s a statement of fact. Your loyalty is to Talon; you can’t be bought to different factions like others can. But you’re still the best, so he must be desperate if he was willing to risk using you.”

“It’s because Akande will be back soon,” Sombra said lazily. “Vialli knows he won’t be happy with how things have been run.”

“Hmph. Not a very good reason to try to take me out.”

Both Widow and Sombra looked at him with “bitch please” expressions.

“Don’t act so naïve,” Widow sniffed. “It’s not very convincing on you.”

“Let’s see, who would Vialli rather deal with, Reaper or Doomfist individually, or the biggest power couple in Talon? And Doomfist isn’t exactly easy to get to at the moment…so Reaper goes down on a mission, Doomfist is upset but can’t pin it on anyone…Vialli’s in a better position.”

“Oh, and he hates you,” Widow tacked onto Sombra’s conspiracy theory bit. Conspiracy theories were usually true in Talon, but more often than not, hatred for someone else could be enough to warrant a hit; real reasons and motivations helped, of course, but Talon was such a loose association of infighting-prone killers that it wasn’t uncommon. Hopefully Akande would straighten that out.

Reyes held up his hands before Sombra could pick up where Widow left off. “Point made.” After a pause, he smiled. It wouldn’t have been a friendly expression even if he’d had a normal face. “You know. I guess doing nothing would be too easy.”

Sombra’s eyes lit up and even Widow couldn’t help but smile, covering her mouth with her hand. “You’re giving me permission to fuck with Vialli? On the record?” Sombra asked.

“None of this is ‘on the record.’”

“I heard him say it; that makes it official.”

“I thought you were on my side, Lacroix.”

Widow almost laughed. “What gave you that idea, Reyes?”

“I don’t know, maybe the saving my life?”

“I thought it was because we’re fucking,” Sombra mused.

Widow pointed her thumb at Sombra. “She’s got the right idea.”

“So I have to fuck you?” Reyes asked.

“No, gross,” Widow gagged. “Don’t ever – I don’t want to hear those words from your mouth ever again.”

Sombra giggled. “Oh, that might be kind of hot.”

Widow shook her head. “Monsters, you’re both monsters. You know what, I’m taking you  _ both _ out, I’m finished with this.”

Neither of them looked convinced, and they traded one of those looks they shared so often in relation to her.

Sombra leaned into Widow, who didn’t budge. “You can help, if you want. Since he tried to fuck you over too.”

“What?” Widow frowned. “He didn’t try to fuck me over. Not really.”

“He tried to use you.”

“Everyone here uses me. I’m used to it.”

Sombra looked at Reyes with a frown, but shrugged as if to say Widow was right. Sombra, however, didn’t seem satisfied with accepting that. “ _ We _ don’t use you. Not like that.”

Widow raised her eyebrows at Reyes.

“Well, okay, Gabe does his job and that means giving us orders but like, we don’t use you like Vialli or Moira or Max. We treat you like a person, not a tool.” Even Widow could see that Sombra was trying to convince herself as much as Widow and Reyes, and that Sombra  _ needed _ to convince herself, couldn’t be lumped in with those three and so many others.

“If that’s how you see it.”

“Am I wrong?” Sombra asked quietly, for once serious, for once sincere.

Widow shrugged. “You’re both better than them. You have an interest in me other than what I can do for you but… if ordering me to kill someone was the way for you to get what you wanted, you would do it. I’m not saying that’s bad; it’s just the way things are. Like I said. I’m used to it.”

Sombra looked uncomfortable, but Widow didn’t think it was at the thought of being someone who used people; Sombra’s whole thing was manipulating others to get what she wanted. No, it seemed more the being lumped in with the likes of Vialli and Moira, being someone who manipulated Widow in particular.

“Don’t worry about it.” Widow touched Sombra’s shoulder for a moment. “Reyes isn’t bothered. You shouldn’t be either.”

He didn’t  _ look _ bothered, but he sounded disapproving when he spoke. “You shouldn’t be so accepting, Lacroix. Don’t be a doormat.”

She blinked. “I’m literally programmed to be a doormat.”

“Well. Taking some initiative, having a stake in your own actions, those aren’t bad things.”

“That’s exactly what I’m not supposed to do. I’m supposed to be an unfeeling tool for Talon to use as they see fit.”

“And how’s that working out for you?”

She looked down, away from him, and Sombra, the most visceral evidence that it was working out terribly, thank you very much. Instead of cold, clear-minded focus, she had almost emotions, almost love and hate, almost clarity. Her programming wasn’t perfect and neither was she; the almosts made everything hazy.

“So what.” Her voice was low. “I start asserting myself. I start making choices. I get sent right back to Moira to be taken apart again, only this time maybe they tell her not to put me back together. No, I’ll not risk that.”

She felt Sombra’s hand on top of hers and realized her own hand was curled in a tight ball in her lap. Sombra’s touch helped a little, but couldn’t relax away the fear that filled her body at the thought of reconditioning. Of Moira, the tight grip of her jagged nails, the knives in her sly smiles, the way she looked at Widow like she was a piece of meat, less than human.

“Hey.” Sombra’s thumb rubbed circles on the back of Widow’s hand, which had tightened again, gentle and soothing. Talon’s perfect killer feared few things, save the woman that had made her. “You won’t have to worry about her for much longer. We’ll get rid of her.”

“I thought we were getting rid of Vialli?” Widow didn’t dare truly entertain the notion that Moira could be gone from her life; it was too dangerously hopeful. So she played her usual dry humor, and she didn’t know if it actually worked in hiding her vulnerability, or if Sombra and Reyes were decent enough to go along with it. She suspected the latter.

“We can do both,” Sombra said playfully. She looked at Reyes. “You’re down, right Gabe?”

He had been silent since she mentioned Moira, looking down at his hands folded on the table. “Sure Sombra.”

He didn’t respond seriously, more like he was placating an insistent child, and Sombra wasn’t oblivious to that. Sombra pouted and opened her mouth, but before she could speak Widow squeezed her hand and said, calm, “Let’s focus on Vialli first.” She even leaned her head against Sombra’s, a gentle touch to seal the deal.

Widow met Reyes’s eyes and gave him the slightest nod. On this level, at least, the two of them understood each other better than anyone else could, and Sombra, willing as she was to jump on their train of hatred against Moira, as much as Sombra herself had reasons to hate the woman, she couldn’t understand what they did, the rage and the fear and how they hated that they were even afraid. Sombra could help. She probably would help. But it was their fight, hers and Reyes’s.

Maybe that was why she couldn’t kill him. She didn’t want to be alone.


End file.
